Say Anything
by DebC75
Summary: Four Agents come to a crossroads, but are they ready to turn the page to a new chapter in their lives?
1. Mulder

Say Anything

"Say Anything"  
an X-Files fic  
by Langleigh  
Rating: PG  
Category: S  
Key Words: Epiphany, Mulder pov, implied Mulder/Reyes UST   
Archiving: Ephemeril, Gossamer, XFMU, and for Julie to do with as she likes. All others please ask before you archive this.   
Feedback: Langleigh75@cs.com  
Spoilers: Empedocles, DeadAlive, Three Words  
Summary: Four Agents come to a crossroads, but are they ready to turn the page to a new chapter in their lives?  
Disclaimers: The X-Files, Mulder, Scully, Doggett, Reyes et al belong to Chris Carter, FOX and 1013. They aren't mine. I don't own them. I don't own anything. Basically, I'm a poor nut trying to amuse myself.  
Dedications/Authors Notes: Well, I'm going to perfectly honest with you. If you're a die-hard Shipper or you don't like Doggett or Reyes, then you shouldn't read this story. You won't like it. In fact, if you do read it, no matter how well-written it was, you're going to want to flame me. If you do, be prepared to be ignored, because personally, I think flames are childish and inappropriate behavior. So... if you even think you're going to flame me, just save us both the trouble and don't bother reading this story.

That being said, I feel I should explain myself. I am a Shipper, or at least, I have called myself one since Season 5. I love Mulder & Scully dearly, and don't deny that they love each other. However, Season 8 is a whole new game for me. While I am a Shipper at heart, I cannot deny that Doggett is head over heels for our Scully. And after last night's episode, I also cannot deny the possibility of something else-the chemistry between Mulder and Reyes. Maybe I'm vulnerable because I'm hanging out on the SkepticsandBelievers list (e-mail azarsuerte@hotmail.com for details) or maybe I just see something special there. Or I could be temporarily nuts. Whatever the reason, I'm writing this story anyway. Will I still write MSR? Yes. Do I still think Mulder and Scully are perfect for each other? Yes. But I find that I can write all things, because there are many facets to this show and its characters, just as there are many facets to my heart. And my heart is telling me to write this regardless of what any critics say. 

  
"Say Anything"  
Part 1: Mulder

I must admit, I've been feeling kind of useless and out of place lately. It could have something to do with having been abducted and then dead and buried for three months. Or it could be because my partner, the only woman in the world I ever truly felt a strong connection to, is about to give birth and I don't have the nerve to ask her if the child is mine. Sometimes I think this has a lot to do with my feelings of inadequacy... but then I see him. I see him talking to her and working with her, and I see how her life went on without me. I see things that I don't think she does, in fact. I see her trusting him and counting on him in ways I'm not sure she ever relied on me. And then I see him... storing that trust in his heart and guarding it-guarding her-so fervently. And until recently, I hated him for it: hated him for her trust of him and for his love of her.

And then I got this phone call... a woman I never met before asking for help on an X-File of all things. The X-Files has been my life's passion for so many years, and now it is the one thing I can't go back to... because the FBI gave my job to him. I told her to call him, told her that I couldn't help her. Scully had just been wheeled into a room and I wanted to be with her. I wanted to keep her safe-and him out. Even as I spoke his name, I could see him standing there, hovering outside her door like a vulture waiting to feed upon her. 

And then she-this woman I did not know-told me that she couldn't go to him. It had to do with him. Everything has to do with *him *, I wanted to tell her. But I didn't; I went to that basement instead. 

And that's when I saw her for the first time... standing there pouring over old files listed under the name "Doggett." Files for a case I never knew existed. Held by a woman I suddenly couldn't get out of my mind. 

At first, she seemed nothing like Scully, and yet the more I listened to her, the more I worked with her while Scully lay in that hospital bed *not * needing me, I found that she challenged me every bit as much as Scully used to. She awoke something in me that had been dead since my return from the grave-passion for life and a desire to move forward. I also found something else-a kindred spirit. Someone who believes in the paranormal and the inexplicable as much as I do and isn't afraid to show it. I quickly realized that if this woman had been assigned to the X-Files all those years ago, we wouldn't be sitting in some musty basement right now. She'd have seen to it that the world did not ignore our work. 

And now the case is over, and here I am with Scully once again, but a part of me doesn't want to be. That's a hard thing to say because I still love her. I'm still connected to her, but I'm starting to realize that the part of her I'm connected to was left behind when she moved on without me. And she did move on. She's been dropping clues to that effect for a while now, but I've been too blinded by my own misery to see it. I finally did see it, though. It was there in her soft smile when she said Doggett was worth it-worth helping, worth getting to know-and it was there when she said she liked Special Agent Reyes. 

"I like her." Do you know what that is? That's a code for "she's a lot like you, Mulder. You'd like her if you gave her the chance." Well, I did like her. I liked her from the moment she called me out in my own-what *used to be *--my own office. She said she hoped my friend got better so there'd be at least one person in that basement with an open mind. That's when she had me. Up until then, I'd been trying to keep her at a distance-to keep the X-Files at a distance-but as soon as she said the words, implying that *I * was being close-minded, I knew I had to give in. "You'll say anything, won't you?" I'd asked her, smiling like I haven't smiled in ages. At that moment, I felt so light-hearted and free. Being with her makes me feeling that way.

Being with Scully right now makes me feel the weight of all that went wrong in my search for the Truth. I know she doesn't mean it, but when I'm with her I feel so trapped sometimes: trapped in the past, stuck in a limbo that began when I was abducted and only ended the moment I smiled and took up Monica Reyes's challenge. I think, thanks to the connection we still share, Scully knows this to be true. Funny thing is, she knows and yet I don't think she minds. 

When she thanked me for the doll, saying how I gave her courage to carry on, I knew that she would understand what I was about to say. "Scully," I take a deep breath; this is harder than ever could have imagined. 

"Yes, Mulder?" Her words are so simple, so perfect and to the point... so Scully. 

"Do you... would you... mind if I stepped out for awhile? There's..."

"Something you have to do?" she asks, filling in my sentence while I flummox about. I smile and nod once. She smiles back slowly. She knows. "Of course, you know I'll be alone until the pizza man gets here." 

"I'm sure you'll manage without me," I say, kissing her thankfully on the forehead and all but rushing to the door in my haste. I stop and turn around to say good-bye.

"Don't say anything, Mulder. Just go."  
  
(Continued in Part 2)


	2. Reyes

Say Anything

All Necessary info in part 1

"Say Anything"  
Part 2: Reyes

My flight leaves tomorrow and I'll be back in New Orleans where I belong. It's not only where I work, it's home. Except lately there's been something nagging at the back of my head-besides that big old knot where the oxygen tank hit me-telling me there might be something else here for me. And that feeling has left me with no desire to leave just yet. I've never taken my premonitions for granted, and whatever the outcome, they've never let me down, despite what John thinks.

He thinks I misinterpreted what was happening on this last case-and what happened to his son. Even now, after it was all over-after he saved my life-he insists that there was no connection, between me and him or the phenomena which brought us together through the death of his son. I can't help but think there was-and may still be. Something is definitely at work here-behind the scenes-pulling us together, bringing us here to this place. By us I mean John, myself, Dana Scully... and... 

His face springs into my mind like a jack-in-the-box coming out of hiding. He tells me that there's an opening in the X-Files I might be good for. Something in his voice triggers something deep inside me. A need to know this man, to work with him more closely. I can sense the anger and bitter resentment that lingers behind his flippant remark. He tries to hide it, tries to hide behind Agent Scully's frail condition, but I can see through the mask. "I hope your friend gets better. Then there will be at least one person down here with an open mind."

Even now, I can't believe I said those words to him-to a man who had just literally returned from the dead. Nor can I believe the response my words earned me. The smile... so big and genuine, hinting at flirtatious as he asked me if I would say anything. Anything I believe in, I told him, and again I was rewarded with that smile. A woman could lose herself in that smile. 

Fox Mulder... is he what connects the four of us? Sometimes I wonder about that. Everything leads me back to him. Scully was his partner for seven years. He disappears, and John is called in to look for him. Then John calls on me to help him. All to find Agent Fox Mulder. You see how it all keeps coming back to him-back to this man whose smiling face so enthralls me? 

You couldn't have live in New Orleans for as long as I have and not believe in some sort of magic. I'm here to tell you that this man has some sort of voodoo in him, and whatever it is, it draws people to him, or it draws me, at least. I can't deny the magic of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes, so like stars or glittering crystal shards. Working with him these past couple of days has been an experience I shall never forget-one I never want to forget, ever. He listens to me, hears what I say. So unlike John. Don't get me wrong, I like John Doggett very much. We became close friends after the death of his son, but nothing about him makes me feel the way the slightest glance from Mulder does. Nothing makes feel so... alive... as that smile. 

Fox Mulder... Just the thought of the man brings him like a spectre to my mind. There he is now, in the doorway, entering this shabby hotel barroom.... walking towards me.

"Is this seat taken?" the spectre asks, and it takes me a few minutes to realize that he's real, not a figment of my mind. I nod, and he sits. I'm speechless for a moment, and in my silence, he orders us both a round of "whatever the lady's having" which turns out to be rum and Coke. I finish the nearly empty glass in my hand before accepting the refill. We both seem unsure of what to say. So instead of talking, we just finish our drinks in a silence that is not awkward, but surprisingly comfortable. 

The area around us at the bar is starting to fill up and I look around. Finding an empty booth in the back, secluded enough for two people looking to escape into the moment, I ask if he would like a little more privacy. He looks at me and grins. 

"I thought you'd never ask." The words are warm and jovial, and I find I cannot move, having briefly melted into my stool. All I can think is no man has ever affected me this way before and probably never will. 

We make our way to the corner booth and sit down facing each other. After the waitress brings another round of drinks-my third and Mulder's second-I work up the confidence to ask him how he knew where to find me. 

To my surprise, he blushes and looks down at the table in embarrassment. "Actually... I, uh... called your friend, Agent Doggett." 

"You called John?!" I can hardly believe what I'm hearing and it shows in my voice. "And he told you where I was... just like that?"

Mulder looks up, an even more flustered look on his face than before. "Well... actually it wasn't as easy as you think." I never said I thought it was easy at all. John practically loathes this man for reasons I'm sure I'll never fully understand. "He, uh... he gave me the third degree." Mulder laughs, a little strained but charming nonetheless. 

"Why would he do a thing like that?" I ask, smiling along with him. 

"You probably won't believe this, but he wanted to know what my intentions were."

"You intentions? Towards me?" Even as I ask the question, things become clear in my mind. John doesn't trust this man, and I'm sure I know why. Agent Scully... and her baby. It's no secret that most the people at the Bureau think that her baby is Mulder's. John says that even AD Skinner believes the two agents have been lovers. John's trying to protect me. 

"Yeah," he replies with a sexy chuckle. "Silly, isn't it?"

"Silly," I echo, laughing with him momentarily. Then I drop the bomb on him. "So... what exactly *are * your intentions, Agent Mulder?" I ask as formally as I can while still wanting him to rock my world. I can't help it, I realize too late. I'm addicted to this man. 

He laughs, and it is an amused laughter tinged with a sultry heat. "Actually, I thought I'd just get to know you, *Agent Reyes*, " he says. "I have a feeling we have a lot more in common than just the FBI." 

As he says it, he leans in on his elbows, which brings his face closer to mine. Dangerously close. I open my mouth to respond, but his index finger flicks out, shushing me with a gentle touch on the lips. 

"Shhh..." he whispers, his voice deep and masculine and his breath warm on my cheek as his face closes the ever shrinking gap between us. "Shhh... don't say anything." 

(continued in 3)


	3. Doggett

Say Anything

  
I'd like to thank my beta reader and best friend (you know who you are) for  
all her help with this part, for helping me fix the mistakes and helping me  
refind my Doggett voice, which I lost partially due to Mulder's smile. :-)

"Say Anything"  
Part 3: Doggett

I remember thinking when we buried Luke that the worst was over with. No  
more worry about having to find him, not more wondering what I could do  
differently. But I was wrong. The worst was trying to live each day  
knowing he couldn't and wanting so much to trade places with him. I  
remember how hard it was to box up his things and store them away. Touching  
each toy was a lesson in pain I never wanted relive.

Only I have relived it... in a million different ways. I'll be driving  
somewhere and pass a school yard full of kids playing, and I'll think of  
Luke. Or there will be a boy with his mom in the grocery store, and for a  
split second he'll have Luke's smiling face. But it won't be real, and the  
only way I can see my son is by opening my wallet and looking at the last  
school picture he'll ever have taken.

Just like I'm doing now.

The phone rings and I close my wallet before answering. It's Agent Mulder,  
which surprises me considering I figured he'd be spending the evening with  
Agent Scully. She went home from the hospital today and I know he was with  
her when she left.

"What can I do for you tonight, Agent Mulder?" I ask.

"I was wondering if you knew where I could find Agent Reyes."

There's something in his voice that tells me he's interested in more than  
just finding her. I noticed it the day when they dragged me out there to  
look at that poor dead woman. A sort of sparkle in the way he looked at  
her. I also noticed the way Monica was looking at him when she didn't think  
anyone was looking. At first I thought it was just professional curiosity,  
but then she mentioned how good he looked considering what he'd been  
through, and I knew it was more than that.

Now here he is calling me asking about her. I wonder what there is between  
them and hope it's nothing.

"Why do you want to know?" I ask, and he starts stuttering like a mindless  
idiot. Something about having nothing better to do and being lonely. I  
want to ask him about agent Scully and remind him that if he's so lonely  
there is someplace he could be, but I don't. Maybe there's a reason he's  
not with Scully right now.

All that stuttering is starting to get annoying. "Look," I say, "Monica is  
my friend. We look out for each other. I'm not about to tell you where she  
is unless I know what your intentions are." I know I sound a little  
menacing, but I can't help it. Monica's had a few bad relationships and I  
can't bear to see her get hurt again. Especially not by this man.

He tells me that he just wants to talk to her--thank her for an interesting  
week and wish her a good life, that sort of thing. It's probably the best  
excuse I'm going to get out of him, so I give him the name of her hotel and  
tell him that she's supposed to leave in the morning.

I hope I did the right thing, I honestly do. I think Monica is smitten with  
him, and like I said, she hasn't had the best track record with men. And as  
for Mulder, well I don't know much about him at him. I've heard a lot of  
rumors about him, though. A lot of rumors. And most of those have to do  
with him and his former partner. Seems a lot of people they were lovers  
before his disappearance. When it became clear that she was pregnant, those  
same people said the baby had to be his. So, I gotta ask myself... if  
Scully's his woman and she's having his baby, then why is do I get the  
impression that he's hot for my friend?

What kind of man would turn his back on the woman who was carrying his child  
for a one night stand--if that's what he's looking for? Especially when the  
woman was a warm, caring person like Dana Scully. Does he realize all she's  
been through for him? All the time she spent looking for him and worrying  
about him? Doesn't he know that she hid her pregnancy from the Bureau so  
they would let her continue to work on the X-Files... all so she could keep  
looking for him?

It just doesn't make sense.

But then, it's not like I really know this man. He's not the one I've spent  
all these months working side by side with. That would be Scully.

Agent Dana Scully... why do I always smile when I think of her? She's  
special, that's why. There's something about her... something that I can't  
put my finger on, but I know I like it. She makes me feel like a hero, and  
at the same time makes me feel vulnerable. I treasure each moment we work  
together, but guard myself to keep her from knowing my secret.

I'm in love with her. And I'll always love her, even if she is carrying his  
child, and even if she never returns my love.

Outside I can hear it start it rain, but inside the walls are starting to  
close in on me. I need some fresh air and time to clear my head. So I put  
on a coat, grab an umbrella and head out into the night. I decide to leave  
my cell phone behind. That way, if anyone else calls looking for me, I  
don't have to say anything.

(Continued in Part 4)

  



	4. Scully

*** Your Title Here ***

"Say Anything"  
Part 4: Scully

I don't know why I thought Mulder would come back tonight or why I actually  
waited up for him. He didn't say he would come back, after all. But here I  
am at fifteen minutes to midnight, waiting up for him like a worried wife.

Only I'm not really worried; I know where he is, and I kind of approve,  
actually.

He went to be with Agent Reyes. Not that this is surprising in any way--I  
knew from the moment I first met Monica Reyes that she was more like Mulder  
than anyone else I knew. Her claims of tolerance towards certain theories  
and of open-mindedness made me think of Mulder right away. I knew then that  
he'd like her if they ever met.

And I was right. Mulder warmed up to her almost immediately.

Some people--a lot of people, if truth be told--might think it strange that  
I would approve of Mulder's choice tonight. I mean, how *could* he leave me  
for another woman at a time like this? What would they have me do? Act like  
an ex-girlfriend bemoaning the fact that I fixed my former lover up with  
someone new and they actually hit it off? It's silly. I have no claims on  
Mulder. I never have. Oh, sure... there have been times in our seven year  
partnership that we came close to crossing the line between friendship and  
something more, but nothing ever came to pass. Despite what half the Bureau  
thinks.

Yeah, I know what they think; I've heard the rumors. They think Mulder and  
I were lovers and that this baby is his. Even Skinner thinks so, and he's  
known us both for how long?

I came to terms the those rumors a long time ago, to be honest. They don't  
mean anything to me now, except as just another part of the mystery  
surrounding my partner and myself. Sometimes, I even enjoy that mystery.

And sometimes I just wish I could share it with someone... someone outside  
of it all. Sometimes I even wish *I* were outside of it all...

... and able to walk away from Spooky Mulder's fairy tales and live a normal  
life.

Lately, I've even wondered if someone hasn't opened the door that leads to  
the normal, everyday world I left behind seven and half years ago to become  
a part of the X-Files. I can see a small shaft of light shining in the  
gloom of my existence, and in it, the silhouette of a man.

He looks an awful lot like John Doggett, to tell the truth.

Agent Doggett is the kind of man I would have loved to be partnered with a  
long time ago. He's a solid, up-standing man who does his job the best way  
he knows how. He's honest and trust-worthy. And he's all heart. No one  
cares more about the people around him than Doggett.

He even cared--cares--for me despite my attempts to push him away.

I have wonder about that. Why would a man care so much for a woman who has  
been so cold to him? I felt I had to be cold, had to keep my distance. If  
I didn't, I'd lose my edge--that edge that sharpened under Mulder's  
teaching--and I'd never find Mulder. I felt I needed that edge, needed the  
well-honed cynicism and paranoid wisdom to keep me focused on finding my  
friend.

And to keep me from doing what one small part of me wished to do--get to  
know my *new* partner, this man who is so like I used to be.

So I pushed him away, distancing myself from him in every way I could. Even  
refusing any familiarity to grow between us. Agent Doggett. Agent Scully.  
But never Doggett, never Scully, never Dana or John.

And that leads me back to why I'm sitting on this couch waiting for Mulder  
to come back and knowing that he won't--because I'm lonely. I'm lonely and  
I can't sleep because the baby is kicking too hard... and Mulder's the one I  
*didn't* push away. So I'm waiting for him, like a fool, when I should  
just...

I reach for the phone, and dial a number I know well enough by now. It  
rings... and rings... and then I hang up.

I sigh and stand up. Maybe I can get to sleep after all, I try to reason.

A knock at the door stops me before I make it to the bedroom. "Coming!" I  
calling out, padding over to answer it.

I open the door just in time to see John Doggett turning his back on me.

"Agent Doggett!" I exclaim. I hadn't expected it to be him, but I'm glad  
it is.

"Sorry to bother you, Agent Scully," he says awkwardly, his New York accent  
turning "bother" in "bothah" in a way that always makes me smile to myself.  
This time I share that smile with him.

"It's no bother, Agent Doggett. Actually..." I feel suddenly self-conscious  
admitting this to him. "I just tried to call you."

"I, ah, left my cell phone at home," he says. "Should I come in?" He smiles  
then, a sweet, friendly smile replacing the gloomy look that had been there  
only moments before.

I step aside, letting him into the apartment. "Something troubling you?" I  
ask.

"Does it show?" is his comeback. I nod sympathetically. "What about you,  
Agent Scully? What's got you out of bed this late at night?"

"Can't sleep," I reply, patting my stomach just over the spot where my  
child's little foot is still kicking. He must be doing jumping jacks in  
there.

We both smile, the same rueful smile, and I remember that he used to be a  
family man. My baby still kicking me, I am suddenly overwhelmed by a sense  
of connection to this man. One never felt--or allowed myself to  
feel--before. He knows what it is to fear for a child's safety... to fear  
for someone you love.

But there is more than just *that* which connects us; I know that now. It  
is what prompted me to call him just now and what brought him to my doorstep  
of his own volition. Something special that has been trying to grow between  
us for a long time now, but could only do so after Mulder was recovered.  
Something that I've been repressing.

Until now.

"Would you like something?" I ask him. "I was thinking of putting on some  
tea."

"Whatever you're having is fine," he says. When I return with the tea a few  
minutes later, he's sitting on the couch, resting as comfortably as if he  
were meant to be there. And more at ease than Mulder had been earlier  
tonight, I note as I sit next to him.

He takes a sip of the tea and sets his cup on the coffee table. When he  
looks at me, I can tell that something is on his mind. "I got a call from  
Agent Mulder tonight," he says.

I nod. "He's with Monica right now." The simple, softly spoken admission  
shocks him.

"And that doesn't bother you?" he asks incredulously.

I shake my head slowly, watching his reaction. "It's for the best, really,"  
I say. It is for the best, I realize even as I say the words. Mulder and I  
will always be close friends, but something happened in his absence... We'd  
reached a fork in the road, and for once, we'd chosen different paths.

Doggett lowers his head for second, half-closed lids hiding his eyes from  
mine. Then he looks up, and I can see the burning question in his  
eyes--what about the baby? But he doesn't ask it. Instead, he slips an arm  
around my shoulder, and I allow myself to drawn closer to him.

There will be time for questions later.

We sit there--me with my head resting against his chest, him lazily stroking  
my hair--in a warm, comforting silence. Each of content in knowing that,  
for now, we don't have to say anything.

(the end)


End file.
